


Six Times Dean Drove the Impala  (and One Time He Didn't)

by carolej126



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Childhood, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4028488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carolej126/pseuds/carolej126
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally published in Road Trip With My Brother 6 (Agent With Style, 2008)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Times Dean Drove the Impala  (and One Time He Didn't)

One

"Hey, sport, do you want to drive?"

It was apparent from Dean's expression that he couldn't believe his ears. Instead of moving forward into the front seat of the Impala, where John was sitting, he simply stared at his father, his eyes wide and his mouth open.

John shook his head in amusement, then patted his lap.

The four-year-old didn't need another invitation. Scrambling over the seatback, he plopped down on his father's lap, and took hold of the steering wheel.

Wiggling slightly in an attempt to get comfortable, and leaning against his dad's broad chest, Dean watched as John started the car. As soon as the car was in 'drive,' and John pressed lightly on the gas pedal, sending the Impala slowly down the deserted back road, the little boy steered the wheel, his face set in concentration.

With one of his father's hands wrapped around his waist, and the other positioned near the steering wheel for safety, Dean gripped the wheel firmly and relished each and every moment as the black car responded to his touch.

 

Two

"You're going to have to drive, son."

Dean turned to look at his father. John's face was white and covered with a sheen of sweat, and both hands were clutching his blood-covered side.

As the twelve-year-old watched, his father made his way to the passenger side of the Impala and lowered himself into the front seat. There, he slumped against the seatback, and after gasping out directions to the closest medical facility, closed his eyes.

With Sammy huddled in the back seat, his eyes wide and frightened, Dean threw himself behind the wheel. Sitting as far forward as he could, he peered over the dashboard and stretched his legs to their full length until the tips of his shoes could reach the pedals. He hurriedly inserted the keys John held out, started the car, then gripped the steering wheel, his hands in the "ten and two" position, just as his father had taught him.

At first he was hesitant, pressing down on the gas pedal lightly, but the moans of pain coming from beside him only served to increase his anxiety, and soon he was bearing down, determined to get his father to the hospital, and the help he needed.

 

Three

"I'll drive."

John just nodded, his attention already on the print-outs in his hand, and headed for the passenger side of the Impala.

As soon as Sammy slowly and reluctantly climbed into the back seat Dean started the car. He divided his attention between the road, his father, who was muttering bits and pieces of what sounded like Latin rituals, and his brother, who sat slouched in the back, his face still reflecting the anger he'd expressed that morning upon learning that they, once again, were going to spend the weekend on a hunt.

He wished Sammy could have stayed behind. The younger boy would have been happy to remain in the hotel room, reading some of the books that he'd been carting around with them, or catching up on some of the massive amount of homework that his high school required. 

But he knew their father would never have allowed it. It wasn't that he didn't trust his youngest son. He just knew what evils were lurking out there, and he wanted Sammy where he could be protected.

So he ignored his brother's barely masked sighs, and followed the road signs, checking the map every so often, knowing his dad would not be happy if he took the scenic route when time was of the essence and innocent lives hung in the balance. 

 

Four

Silence reigned.

The road stretched on in front of him, miles and miles of asphalt pavement that seemed to go on forever.

With his brother away at college in a quest for a "normal life," and his father pursuing his own hunt two states away, Dean traveled alone. The radio was his constant companion, and when only crackling noises filled the air, he popped in a cassette tape, and wiled away the hours listening to his favorite music.

Dean glanced at the empty seat beside him, wondering not for the first time, or probably the last, what Sammy was doing at that moment. If he was safe, happy, content. 

At times he picked up the cell phone, scrolling down to Sam's name, his finger hovering over the buttons. But in the end, he closed the phone and returned it to his jacket pocket.

If Sammy wanted a normal life, devoid of hunting and his family, that's what Dean was determined to give him. No matter how much it hurt.

 

Five

"Go! Go!"

Sam crammed his long frame into the passenger side as fast as he could, still breathless from their headlong dash across a mile of woods and brush. Dean threw himself behind the wheel, turning to slam his door shut in perfect unison with his brother, then fumbled for his keys, trying to wrestle them out of his pocket and into the ignition.

The Impala roared to life, and Dean stomped his foot down on the gas pedal.

Thrown back in his seat, Sam got a brief glimpse of matted brown fur, long claws, and sharp teeth by his window before the car raced out of the parking lot, leaving the creature, whatever it was, behind in a spray of gravel and a cloud of dust.

The two young men exchanged a wry look, silently promising to return the next day. But this time, it would only be after the proper research, and with the correct weapons.

 

Six

"Want me to drive?"

The quiet words broke the silence that had filled the Impala for the past several hundred miles.

Dean glanced over at his brother. Sam was slouched in his seat, eyes blinking slowly in an obvious attempt to move from his half-asleep state to full awareness.

It had been quite a long nap, but knowing how little sleep his brother had been getting over the past few weeks, due to night hunts and the occasional nightmare, it was nowhere near the amount of rest he needed.

So, despite the fact that he would have enjoyed the company, Dean shook his head.

Sam didn't question the response, simply nodding his head and snuggling a little more comfortably into his seat. He watched the passing scenery through eyes set at half-mast for a short time. Then, a few minutes later and a few more miles down the road, his eyes closed and he was sleeping once again.

 

Seven

"My turn."

It wasn't a question, or even an entreaty. It was a statement of fact. Sam simply held out his hand for the Impala's keys and waited.

Dean's first response was to glare, but it was pretty ineffective, seeing that one of his eyes was completely swollen shut, and the other was nearing the half-way mark.

Sam's hand remained outstretched.

A few carefully chosen curse words followed, all intending to convey the idea that, yes, Dean was fine, just fine, and certainly able to drive the car without any difficulties. Despite the bloody gouge that traced from his wrist to his elbow, the large knot on the back of his head, and the deep bruises that dotted his abdomen.

Sam silently shook his head, and kept waiting. 

There was a long moment when the two young men stared at each other, both refusing to back down, and then Dean sighed, and nodded without moving his head enough to aggravate his injuries.

Slowly fishing the keys out of his pocket with his good hand, Dean handed them over and stiffly moved toward the passenger side.

Sam covered up his smile by heading for the driver's seat. He'd known all along that his brother would capitulate, after all, Dean wasn't about to risk his "baby," or his brother. But he'd also known that Dean would put up a fuss, weak as it might be, before giving in.

As soon as Dean had settled in, positioning himself as comfortably as possible, and setting his shades over his eyes, Sam started the car.

~end~


End file.
